


Beach Retreat

by whimsymanaged



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beach Holidays, Clueless Harry Potter, Draco In Glasses, Dramione mainly, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friend groups, Hermione is in Denial, Meddling Pansy Parkinson, Romance, Tall Draco Malfoy, other pairings are more background
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsymanaged/pseuds/whimsymanaged
Summary: Two weeks ago, Pansy had sauntered into Hermione’s office and announced that she and Hermione would be hosting a beach holiday. Hermione had known instantly that it was Pansy’s thinly veiled plot to get Harry in bed. (The witch had been eyeing Harry for months now.)It was only after everything had been booked and confirmed, and Hermione’s leave for that Friday had been approved, that Pansy had said casually, “By the way, Draco’s coming too.”If Hermione hadn’t been stunned speechless, she would have hexed the witch.Draco Malfoy was not a part of Friday night drinks. He was not a regular member of their group and he should not, in theory, have been invited on this holiday.But Pansy Parkinson loved to meddle.
Relationships: Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 24
Kudos: 206





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's late, and I probably shouldn't be posting this while half-asleep... but I couldn't help myself. Most likely will end up being 3 chapters or so. I hope you enjoy!

**Friday, 10:07 a.m.**

This was all Pansy’s fault.

Hermione reached up to pull her sun hat lower over her eyes as she glanced around at the other attendees of this stupid beach holiday. Harry was laughing with Neville over something while Blaise and Ginny tried to figure out how to work a Muggle digital camera. A few steps away, Ron was levitating some of Lavender’s bags into the villa as Lavender made small talk with Pansy and Draco.

And Hermione was standing off to the side, trying not to stare daggers at Pansy.

This might have seemed like a strange group seven years ago, but a lot had changed since the end of the Second Wizarding War. After going back to Hogwarts to take her NEWTS, Hermione had started working at the Ministry alongside Pansy Parkinson of all people, and after a few explosive arguments, the two women had become reluctantly civil. Civility had turned into a tentative friendship, which had then turned into becoming best friends. Their friendship had brought their other friends together, and Harry, Ron, Ginny, Blaise, Neville, Pansy, and Hermione had a standing date for Friday night drinks.

Two weeks ago, Pansy had sauntered into Hermione’s office and announced that she and Hermione would be hosting a beach holiday. Hermione had known instantly that it was Pansy’s thinly veiled plot to get Harry in bed. (The witch had been eyeing Harry for months now.)

“Bali, I think.” Pansy had said thoughtfully, tapping her chin as though she hadn’t already mapped out the entire trip. Hermione had been involved in enough of Pansy’s schemes to see through her. “We can get an international portkey and a lovely villa that will fit all of us.”

It was only after everything had been booked and confirmed, and Hermione’s leave for that Friday had been approved, that Pansy had said casually, “By the way, Draco’s coming too.”

If Hermione hadn’t been stunned speechless, she would have hexed the witch.

Draco Malfoy was _not_ a part of Friday night drinks. He was not a regular member of their group and he should not, in theory, have been invited on this holiday. (Lavender was allowed to come because she and Ron were head over heels in love.)

But Pansy Parkinson _loved_ to meddle.

Being best friends with Pansy meant that Hermione had to see Draco from time to time, because he was one of Pansy’s best friends too. Unfortunately, Draco had grown out of his pointed features and into an arrestingly handsome man who was ridiculously tall and disturbingly muscular. He had an office job, for Merlin’s sake. Why did he need to exercise so much?

Absurdly good looks were something Hermione could handle, but Draco had also apologised to her _._ He had met her for coffee shortly after the final battle to tell her how sorry he was for the hell he and his family had put her through. He no longer held the prejudiced beliefs he once had, and it wasn’t just because his side had lost the war. As someone who had witnessed his fear and reluctance during the war, Hermione had believed him and accepted his apology. After that, he had made his rounds apologising to as many of the people he had wronged as he could.

As if that hadn’t been enough, Hermione had then made the dismayed discovery that he was _clever_ too. Funny and quick-witted and self-deprecating, and honestly, that had been the last straw. About a year ago, Hermione had told Pansy that she refused to see Draco anymore, a statement that Pansy had responded to with a knowing smirk.

Hermione had hoped more than believed that that had been the end of that. Pansy was not known for letting things go.

“Granger.”

Speak of the devil. Hermione snapped out of her thoughts and turned her attention to the tall blond who had appeared beside her. Draco was wearing a light blue button-down shirt and khaki shorts, and Hermione hated it. She could see his forearms and his calves. There was so much skin on display. It was obscene, really.

His lips curved upwards. “What were you scowling at?”

“I wasn’t scowling.” Hermione answered hotly, taking care to force her brows apart. She glanced towards Pansy, who seemed to be determinedly ignoring her. “Did Pansy send you over here?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “No. I was just wondering why you looked so upset. I thought this holiday was your idea.”

Hermione tipped her head back so she could squint at him properly. Merlin, he was enormous. “Do I really seem like the type to arrange a spur-of-the-moment beach retreat?”

He shrugged. “I suppose not, but Pansy said otherwise. Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”

She was definitely going to kill Pansy. “Oh. You’re welcome. Do you know why we aren’t going inside? Shouldn’t we set our things down?”

“I can bring your bags in, if you want.” Draco offered. He paused, then backtracked. “I know you’re perfectly capable of carrying them yourself. I was—never mind. Do you want some help? It’s fine if not."

Hermione was starting to get suspicious. Why was Draco being so nice? He had apologised years ago, yes, and he had proven himself to be clever, sure. But this was still very odd. Maybe Pansy had done something to him. Hermione wouldn’t have put it past her.

“I can carry my bags, thanks.” Hermione finally said. She looked across at the others and managed to catch Harry’s eye. Relief washed over her at the small mercy, and she called out to him, “Should we go inside?”

Harry was grinning. He had been working himself to death in the Auror department, and Hermione noticed that he already looked more relaxed since they’d gotten to the beach a few minutes ago. At least Pansy’s scheming had been good for something. And, if Pansy’s plan worked, Harry would be getting laid by the end of the weekend too, so there was that.

“Right. Pansy?” Harry said, waving a hand in Pansy’s direction. “Can we go inside?”

Pansy flounced away from Lavender and looped an arm through Harry’s, earning her a bemused smile from the dark-haired man. She was practically beaming. “Yes, let’s go in and get settled. We can pick our rooms!”

The villa was huge, with high ceilings, large windows, and hardwood flooring. Immediately past the entryway was a spacious living room and dining room, and further in was a kitchen filled with shiny appliances. A staircase ran along the far wall, presumably leading up to the bedrooms.

“So, there are five bedrooms.” Pansy told the group. “They’re all big, so we’ll be able to share fairly easily. I assumed we’d pair off… Ron and Lavender, Ginny and Blaise, me and Harry, Draco and Hermione, and then Neville can have a room to himself.”

Harry had turned beet red, and Hermione was spluttering. “Pansy, what—no! Those pairings make no sense.”

Pansy gave her an innocent look. “Hermione, dear, Ron and Lavender are dating, as are Ginny and Blaise. Surely you know they’ve moved past holding hands by now. The pairings are perfectly logical."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco cross his arms over his chest. His voice was low and calm, the opposite of Hermione’s squeaking. “Pansy. What exactly are you trying to do here?”

“Oh, come on.” Lavender piped up. She was smiling, her head resting against Ron’s shoulder. “Live a little, you lot. They’re just rooms. They’ll likely have separate beds. Let’s just get this sorted so we can go down to the beach. I’m dying for a swim.”

Without another word, Lavender steered Ron towards the staircase. Ron gave Hermione an apologetic look and shrug over his shoulder as he allowed himself to be led away. Neville followed them, a small smile playing at his lips, and Blaise tugged Ginny towards the stairs after him.

Hermione pressed her index finger and thumb to the inner corners of her eyes.

“Actually, Hermione and I can share a room.” Harry offered, and Hermione’s head shot up hopefully. The saviour of the wizarding world, indeed. “I mean, we’re best friends after all, and Pansy, you and Draco are best friends—”

“Absolutely not.” Pansy said immediately. “I don’t want to spend any more time with Draco than I have to.”

Draco stared at her. “Why not?”

“Because.” Pansy sniffed. She turned back to Harry. “Are you afraid of sharing a room with me, Potter?”

Harry hesitated. “Yes?”

“Why can’t I have the single room?” Hermione asked.

“I think it would do you good to sleep with a man.” Pansy said bluntly, and Hermione choked, her face heating up at an impossible speed. Pansy was evil. And embarrassing. Incredibly embarrassing.

“This is ridiculous.” Hermione said. “But if you want to be that way, then fine, I’ll sleep with Neville.”

“I’ll room with you.” Draco said abruptly.

Harry and Hermione stared at him, but Pansy just clapped her hands in glee. “Alright! That took longer than I thought, but you three do have a tendency to be contrary. Shall we go see our rooms?”

“Hang on.” Harry protested. “I haven’t agreed.”

Pansy let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. Why don’t we just go see the rooms, levitate our bags up there, go enjoy the day, and decide on all this later?”

There was a pause, and then Harry gave a slow nod. “I’m okay with that.”

They headed up the stairs with Pansy leading the way. The others had already picked their rooms, and the last two rooms available were on either end of the hallway.

Pansy flung open the doors of the room closest to them, so Draco and Hermione started towards the other empty room.

The last bedroom available was very nice, with a soft rug, an armchair in the corner, and a sizable wooden wardrobe along one wall. There was an attached bathroom with both a rain shower and a bathtub.

And, because somehow things always went Pansy’s way, in the middle of the room stood a king-sized bed.

“I’ll talk to Pansy later.” Draco sighed. With a flick of his wand, he summoned both his and Hermione’s bags from downstairs. “We have to pick our battles.”

As much as the whole situation irked Hermione, she had to agree with him. She opened up the larger of her two bags (the other bag was just a beach tote for her books and sunscreen) and fished her swimsuit out. “Do you need the bathroom?”

“Go ahead.” Draco said as he rummaged through his own bag.

She went into the bathroom and locked the door before quickly getting changed. Her swimsuit was black with a modest neckline and a slightly lower back. It wasn’t sexy by any means, but Hermione didn’t really consider herself the type to be sexy. She was a smart woman, and she could be a pretty woman (see: the Yule Ball; Bill and Fleur’s wedding). But sexy? That wasn’t quite in her repertoire, and she supposed she was mostly okay with that. The swimsuit did the job.

She wiggled back into the shorts she’d been wearing before and opened the bathroom door, sun hat in hand.

Draco was sitting on the edge of the bed, and before he could look up, Ginny and Pansy entered the room. Ginny was wearing a tiny red bikini top that set off her hair and left little to the imagination while Pansy was in a black bikini top with straps that criss-crossed suggestively over her breasts.

Those two were definitely sexy.

“Draco, why aren’t you changed?” Pansy demanded, folding her arms in a way that gave her incredible cleavage. “There’s no time to waste.”

Draco arched one pale eyebrow at Pansy. “I thought this was supposed to be a holiday.”

“Bathroom’s free if you need it.” Hermione said, and his head turned towards her.

The curves of his cheekbones turned pink as he took her in. The seconds seemed to drag on, his gaze lingering on her high neckline before drifting to the curve of her waist. Finally, he blinked and cleared his throat, quickly dropping his eyes to the swim shorts in his hands. “Right. Thanks.”

As he closed the bathroom door behind him, Ginny gave Hermione a wide-eyed look. “Hello. What just happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione said. Her face was hot. She grabbed her tote bag and ushered the two women out of the room. “Come on. The beach is waiting.”

**Friday, 10:52 a.m.**

Hermione had just gotten settled on her towel when Draco came down to the beach with Blaise. Blaise was hooting and thumping Draco on the back as Draco shook his head, smiling sheepishly, but Hermione could only focus on the fact that Draco was not wearing a shirt and it was—it was—

She didn’t want to think about what it was.

He was wearing a pair of green swim shorts that hung low on his hips, and his feet were bare. Blaise was similarly dressed—bare-chested and in blue shorts—and the two men looked like they had stepped off the cover of a magazine.

Hermione decided to ignore them.

A few moments later, a shadow fell over her, and she looked up.

“Can I sit with you?” Draco asked.

Hermione craned her neck to see where everyone else had gone. Neville, Pansy, Harry, and Ginny were in the water, and Blaise was jogging over to join them. Ron and Lavender were presumably still back at the villa.

She glanced up at Draco again. She might not have wanted him on this trip for her own reasons, but she didn’t want to be rude either. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Draco laid his towel out beside hers and sat down. He reached into his pocket and drew out a small bottle of sunscreen. “Do you need some?”

“Oh.” In Hermione’s rush to leave Draco behind at the villa, she hadn’t applied any sunscreen. She was too smart to be acting this stupid. “I have some in my bag. Thanks for reminding me.”

She took out her sunscreen and started applying it to her face, neck, and shoulders. She was smoothing the lotion onto her arms when she noticed Draco awkwardly trying to reach his back. Of course. _Of course._ Pansy could not have planned this better herself. After a minute or so, he gave up and finished up his arms instead.

Hermione bit her lip. She was going to regret this, she knew. “Do you want me to help you with your back?”

He paused. “That’s okay. It’s just the one part that I couldn’t reach.”

“The thing is…” Hermione wanted to take the words back before she’d even said them. “Skin cancer.”

Draco turned to face her more fully. His eyebrows were drawn together, but his eyes were unmistakably amused. “Is that the thing?”

“Yes.” Hermione answered firmly. “That. Is the thing.”

One corner of his lips quirked up. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that. Will you do me, then?”

Hermione coughed. “Do your back, you mean.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He was clearly trying not to laugh as he handed his sunscreen to her. “Thanks.”

She got up and moved so she was kneeling behind him. He was massive, and it made her feel tiny. Hermione was not tiny. She was… normal-sized. Draco was just some sort of gargantuan creature. She squeezed some lotion into her hand. “You’re terribly pale.”

He snorted. “Thank you.”

“Do you burn easily?” She asked, rubbing her hands together before pressing them to his shoulder blades. His skin was warmer than it looked, and his muscles were hard under her palms.

“Quite.” He answered. She didn’t know if she was imagining it, but it felt like he was leaning into her touch. “I don’t get much sun with my job—I’m always in the office. I’m sure you’re the same with your job.”

He turned his head so she could see his profile. He had a beautiful nose.

He lifted one hand and brushed a finger over her bare thigh, barely grazing it. “How do you stay so golden?”

Hermione’s brain was short-circuiting. From a touch that was so featherlight that it might not have been there at all. And from looking at his stupid, beautiful nose. “I get that from my mum. We don’t get very pale, no matter how little sunlight we get.”

“That’s interesting.” Draco said. “I’ve always wondered.”

“I didn’t think you wondered about me.” Yes, her brain had definitely stopped working.

He breathed a laugh. “You’d be surprised.”

His words made her blush all the way down to her chest, and she dropped her hands from his skin. “I’m done. You’re well protected now.”

She quickly moved back to her towel and picked up her book.

“You haven’t done your legs.”

For fuck’s sake. Hermione eyed him over the top of her book. “Are you offering?”

He had the nerve to smirk. “Do you want me to be?”

She had not come on this trip intending to flirt with Draco Malfoy. And yet, here they were. The question was whether or not she wanted to _keep_ flirting with him. What was even happening here? Was he actually interested? She might be smart and pretty, but she didn’t think she was Draco’s type. What was his type anyway? And why did she care?

She had too many questions.

“I can do them myself.” She muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Alright.” He said easily. She could hear the smile in his voice. “Are you shy, Granger?”

She almost glared at him. She wasn’t _shy_. She was… modest. She was… averse to having his hands all over her legs, because of reasons. Important reasons. That she had.

“Leave me alone, Draco.” She hastily slathered sunscreen onto her legs as clinically and unsexily as she could.

Then she opened her book and did her best to pretend that he wasn’t there.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading the first chapter! Your kudos and comments made me so happy!
> 
> This one is for @valancyjane74 for leaving me such lovely comments. Thank you so much! I hope you like this one as much as you did the first chapter.

**Friday, 3:16 p.m.**

“—wouldn’t think he’d let himself get _quite_ this hung up on a woman. This is definitely a first.”

“I’ll just be glad when I don’t have to see another Granger-looking witch on his arm. He’s so bloody obvious sometimes, and I felt bad for those women—"

Draco opened his eyes to see Blaise and Pansy sitting on the couch directly opposite from where he had been napping. They were both staring at him and looked like they’d been doing so for some time now.

“Fucking hell.” Draco muttered. “Can’t you two let a bloke sleep in peace?”

“This is a public area, Draco.” Blaise drawled with purposeful condescension. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Why are you sleeping?”

Draco glared at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re on a bloody holiday!”

Pansy smirked, curling her legs up beneath her. “Oh, our poor, dramatic Draco. We just thought you’d be taking advantage of this time to win Hermione over. It looked like you were making some progress this morning.”

Draco honestly had no idea if he’d made any progress with Hermione Granger whatsoever. He’d always had a reluctant interest in her, which he’d forcefully suppressed in the past because it hadn’t fallen in line with the beliefs he’d been taught. But since he’d grown up and out of those beliefs, he’d had much more difficulty denying how much he liked her.

He didn’t see her often—she worked at the Ministry and he worked at a financial consulting company, and they were both practically married to their jobs. In years past, he’d made excuses to meet Pansy for lunch so he could “just so happen” to invite Hermione along, and that had worked a few times. But Hermione had never seemed particularly interested in him, and he had barely seen her in the past year, so he’d sort of given up.

When Pansy had told him that Hermione wanted him to come along on this beach retreat, he hadn’t been able to stop the hope that had grown inside of him. However, based on how Pansy had been acting since the trip had started, he’d realised that this was one of her schemes. He’d probably been asking her about Hermione too much, and she’d put two and two together.

He’d had a nice time on the beach with Hermione that morning, but she’d excused herself to go back inside after about an hour. After that, Ron had called them all in to eat the BLTs Lavender had made for lunch with the ingredients she’d brought with her. Lavender owned a café in Hogsmeade, and the sandwiches had been to die for. Draco had eaten three of them and then promptly fallen asleep on the couch.

Which brought him to what was happening now.

“Draco, for exactly how long have you fancied Granger?” Blaise asked.

Draco was in the midst of flipping him the bird when Pansy said airily, “Oh, probably for about as long as Neville has.”

Draco went very still. He slowly lowered his middle finger as he stared at Pansy. “Longbottom doesn’t fancy her.”

Pansy laughed. “Haven’t you noticed? He’s always talking to her and trying to make her laugh...”

“They’re old friends.” Draco said.

“No, no, I think Pansy has a point.” Blaise said, looking inspired. “Longbottom definitely has been hanging around Granger more recently. You wouldn’t know, because she barely ever deigns to see you—”

“Thanks, Blaise.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“—but he does tend to be all over her during drinks on Fridays.” Blaise continued. He pointed a finger in Draco’s face. “You’ve got to make a move, mate, or she’s going to end up married to Longbottom instead of you. You’ll live out the rest of your days as a miserable old codger who doesn’t do anything but think of the one who got away, and then you’ll die a slow and painful death.”

“Why do I have to die a slow and painful death?” Draco frowned.

“Blood curse.” Blaise told him.

“I don’t have a blood curse.”

“Hmm.” Blaise thought for a moment. “Perhaps you crash your broom, then? Because you’re out flying when you’re really old but you can’t stop thinking about Granger, and so you fly into a tree and fall. But no one finds you, so you just lie there for days before you die. Weeks, even. Could be a month.”

“Can we get back to the point here?” Pansy said impatiently. She got up and sat next to Draco, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. “We’re going out tonight. Just talk to her. Make her laugh more than Longbottom does, and maybe you’ll have a chance.”

“You mean I won’t have to crash my broom and die on the forest floor somewhere?” Draco asked dryly.

“Only if you actually do something instead of waiting around like an idiot.” Blaise put in cheerfully. “Otherwise, it’s forest floor for you.”

As much as he hated to admit it, his friends had a point. He’d been dragging his feet with Hermione because he was so unsure about how she felt about him. He’d been a shitty person for a long time—would he look past that if he were her? He didn’t know.

And she did spend a lot of time scowling at him, although he didn’t know why. Once, several years ago, he’d rolled up his sleeves during lunch to find her glaring at him. When he’d asked her about it, she’d just spat the word, “Forearms” at him before changing the subject.

She was a bit of a mystery, but one he felt he’d thoroughly enjoy unravelling.

Draco sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. He didn’t want Neville to ask Hermione out before he’d ever had a chance to. She might say no to both of them, but at least he would have tried.

His new mission this weekend was to figure out what Hermione Granger thought of him.

He was probably a goner.

**Friday, 6:50 p.m.  
**

Dinner that night was at a barbecue seafood restaurant right on the beach. The group ordered two huge platters of crabs, prawns, fish, and squid to share, and by the time their first round of beers had arrived, the delicious scent of barbecue had taken residence in their hair and clothes.

Draco was sitting next to Hermione, which was ideal. Neville was sitting across from her, which was not ideal, but Draco was trying not to think too much about it. Instead, he focused on the fact that Hermione looked even more beautiful than usual, her skin glowing from a day in the sun and her hair tumbling in riotous curls around her shoulders.

When he opened a bottle of beer and handed it to her, she accepted it with a smile. “Thank you. Do you like Muggle beer?”

“I don’t care much for the taste, but I’m not opposed to the buzz.” He said as he cracked open a bottle for himself. “I still prefer Firewhisky.”

“Of course you do.” Hermione said with amusement.

He narrowed his eyes, although he wasn’t really offended. “Making assumptions about me, Granger?”

“Always.” She quipped. She was in a good mood tonight, and it was making Draco’s insides feel warm. She took a sip of beer before saying, “Obviously, you would prefer expensive wizard liquor to cheap Muggle beer. You iron all your silk underwear, and you would rather die than be caught wearing an outfit worth less than 500 Galleons.”

“600 Galleons, actually.” Draco said, and she laughed. He slid his arm around the back of her chair. “It sounds like you’ve been spying on me.”

“I don’t need to spy on you. The Daily Prophet tells me everything I need to know.” Hermione smiled, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Honestly, how do you get yourself featured in the papers as much as you do? You must have a publicist telling reporters exactly where you are at all times.”

He grimaced. “I actually hate being in the papers, but every time I see myself in them, I tell myself it could be worse. I could be in Azkaban instead.”

It was meant to be a self-deprecating joke, but Hermione’s eyes widened in horror. “Don’t say that. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, you know that. If you really don’t want to be photographed, the papers should respect that. I’d thought maybe it was a sort of publicity stunt for your business.”

“It’s not my business.” Draco reminded her.

“Well, technically, it’s not, but you’re the star consultant, aren’t you?” Hermione gestured towards him. “I mean… you look like that, and you seem—”

Draco’s ears perked up. “Look like what?”

Her face flushed. “I just meant that you’re young and unmarried, and you’re doing amazing things in the field of financial consulting in the wizarding world, so that probably appeals to the public.”

He leaned in closer to her. “You didn’t answer the question.”

She scowled at him a little bit. “Could you just be decent and pretend I didn’t say what I did? It would save me some embarrassment.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, and Neville said, “What are you two laughing about?”

Draco sent him a withering look. Hermione, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat: “Draco ironing his underwear.”

Harry, who was sitting across from Draco, grinned. “Underwear? I barely even iron my shirts.”

“We know, Potter.” Draco said, and Hermione burst out laughing.

Her eyes shone as she tipped her face up to his. “I don’t think you’re meant to be this interesting, Draco Malfoy.”

Their food came at that moment, preventing Draco from making any sort of reply. Harry groaned as the waiter set a platter of seafood between the four of them. “Fuck, this looks amazing.”

They heaped food onto the individual plates they’d been given and started eating. Hermione painstakingly peeled the shell off a prawn with a knife and fork before slipping the prawn into her mouth. She let out a small moan that went straight to Draco’s groin. “This is perfect.”

“I want this in my mouth always.” Harry declared around a mouthful of food.

Before Draco could say anything, Hermione sunk her elbow into his ribs. “Don’t you dare. This is a moment for all of us.”

Draco smirked, dropping a peeled prawn into Hermione’s plate. “I can see that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to ruin it anyway.”

“You can’t ruin this, mate.” Neville said as he cracked a crab claw open. “Pansy deserves props for finding this restaurant.”

As Draco ate some grilled fish, he had to admit that the others were right. He offered Pansy a salute across the length of the table, and Pansy called out, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.” Draco answered, and Pansy beamed.

Ron ordered another round of drinks for the group, and by the time the platters were close to empty, Draco was three beers in and full of the best seafood he’d ever had. He was tempted to rest his head on the table, but he supposed that wouldn’t be good manners.

“So, Nev, you got your eye on anyone?” Harry asked all of a sudden. He waggled his eyebrows in a very unsightly way. “I know you dated someone from the conservatory last year, but you haven’t seen anyone since, yeah?”

Draco did not like where this conversation was going.

Neville shrugged as he took a swig of beer. “I’m sort of interested in someone. I didn’t want to say anything just in case…”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “Neville! How exciting. Is it someone we know?”

“Er, yeah.” Neville said, his ears turning red. “You especially, Hermione, know this person.”

Draco’s eyes snapped over to where Blaise was sitting. Blaise gave him a lazy smile, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation, and raised his eyebrows in an obnoxious _I told you so_.

“Draco, dear, are you okay?” Pansy’s voice rang out from the other end of the table.

Draco turned to look at her. Before he could answer, she shouted, “Have you had three beers already? That means it’s about time for you to vomit, doesn’t it?”

Draco was speechless.

“Ah, yes, Three-Beer Draco!” Blaise joined in. Draco had never been called Three-Beer Draco in his life. He had no fucking idea what his so-called friends were on about. “Granger, I think it’s time you took him home.”

“What?” Draco said, but it was too late. Hermione looked properly alarmed.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asked him quietly, even though Blaise and Pansy had been shouting loudly enough for the next town to have heard them. There was no saving his dignity at this point.

“I’m fine.” He gritted out.

“Draco. Mate.” Blaise again. “You look green. I’m worried about you.”

Hermione was already standing up. “Come on. I’m done anyway. I’ll just leave some money, and we can go.”

“Oh, don’t worry about money, Hermione.” Pansy called out. “Draco, could you leave your wallet?”

He really hated his friends sometimes.

He handed his wallet to Blaise before following Hermione out of the restaurant. He didn’t even know why he was going along with this, except that he expected that any resistance on his part would have led to louder and more horrifying fake revelations on Blaise’s and Pansy’s parts. He knew his friends had good intentions, but honestly, they could have come up with something less embarrassing.

“You don’t seem terribly drunk.” Hermione commented as they started the short walk back to the villa. The moon was bright, and the lights from the nearby restaurants and villas helped to illuminate their path. “Is this an abrupt projectile vomiting sort of thing?”

Draco was mortified. “No, it’s not.”

“Hmm.” Hermione looked unconvinced. “Do you need me to hold onto you?”

He sighed. “Granger, I’m not sick. I’m not going to vomit. Blaise and Pansy are just mental.”

“Oh.” Realisation dawned on Hermione’s face. “ _Oh._ Of course.”

She shook her head. “Pansy’s been meddling since before this trip even started. I should have known this was one of her schemes.”

He wasn’t exactly surprised that she knew about Pansy’s scheming. Hermione had, in his opinion, the greatest mind in the universe, and she was also one of Pansy’s closest friends. But he was curious as to the reasons Hermione believed Pansy was scheming. Did she know that he fancied her? Did she just think Pansy had nothing better to do? Or… could it be that she liked him too?

“Earlier, you said something about how I look.” He said, glancing over at her as they neared the villa. “What did you mean by that?”

“I’ve had too many beers to talk to you about this right now.” Hermione said immediately.

He smiled. “Noted. Conversation for tomorrow, then?”

“Preferably not.” Hermione said. They had reached the villa, and he unlocked and opened the door, gesturing for her to go inside.

She flicked on the lights as he locked the door behind him. Then she paused and turned back to him. “We didn’t talk to Pansy about the bed.”

Ah, yes. The bed.

“It’s not a problem, Granger.” Draco said. “I can sleep down here on the couch. I already did it once today.”

The corners of her lips lifted. “Did you? Was it comfortable?

“Extremely.” It had been, but more importantly, he didn’t want her to feel forced to share a bed with him. When it came to things that mattered, he was a firm believer in enthusiastic consent. “I’d like to take a shower, though, if you don’t mind. I’ll come right down here after.”

“Actually…” Hermione looked down at her sandals then back up at him. It seemed like an idea was forming in her mind. “What if we stayed in the room together, and then refused to talk about it with the others tomorrow?”

He blinked at her before he realised what she was saying.

He arched an eyebrow. “Withhold all the juicy details of our bed-sharing, you mean?”

There was a glint in her eyes. “Why not? They deserve it after all their interfering.”

“Only if you’re really alright with sharing with me.” That was the one thing he wasn’t willing to negotiate on. If she wasn’t fully comfortable, he wasn’t going along with this.

But she was already walking towards the stairs. “I’m happy to share with you if it means driving Pansy crazy.”

He smirked even though she couldn’t see him. “And because of the way I look?”

She ignored him, and he laughed as he followed behind her.

**Friday, 9:03 p.m.**

Draco took a shower first, and then Hermione did. When she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, Draco gestured towards the potion vial he’d left next to her bags. “Sober-Up Potion. If we’re going to share a bed tonight, we should at least be sober for it.”

She padded across the room in bare feet, her hair already spell-dried and curling in ringlets. She was wearing a pale yellow shirt and black joggers, and she looked so gorgeous that Draco’s heart was in his throat. He loved this look on her, all soft and comfortable. He couldn’t wait to fall asleep next to this version of Hermione.

She uncorked the vial and gulped down its contents. She didn’t even question the fact that he had the potion with him; he suspected she had a whole stash of just-in-case potions in her bags too.

After setting the empty vial down, she turned to him, a question in her eyes. “You wear glasses?”

He reached up and fingered the bridge of the glasses he was wearing. “I usually just wear them at work, but I’m doing a crossword.”

Her gaze fell on the crossword spread out over his lap where he was sitting on the right side of the bed. After a moment, she slowly climbed onto the other side of the bed, taking care to stay as far away from him as possible. She craned her neck to see the puzzle. “Have you just started?”

He resisted the urge to smile. “Granger, I won’t bite. You can come a little closer if you want to do the puzzle with me.”

She hesitated, and he could see her turning over her options. Finally, she scooted a few centimetres closer. Any progress was progress, he supposed. She looked at his glasses again.

“You always do that.” He told her. “Give me that irritated look.”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised that he had noticed. She scratched the tip of her nose. “I don’t mean to. Sorry.”

“You don’t like the glasses?” He wanted to know.

“Does it matter whether I do?” She asked.

He smiled. “Well, I do actually need to wear them, so I’d wear them whether or not you liked them. But I want to hear your opinion.”

She blew out a breath. “They’re fine. They’re different.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” He was watching pink bloom across her cheeks, and it was making him want to tease her more.

She glared at him before rising up on her knees and folding her arms across her chest like she’d had it. He braced himself for what was to come.

“In a good way, obviously.” She said with exasperation. “You’re very attractive, alright? I give you irritated looks because you are impossibly, frustratingly attractive, and it makes me angry.”

He was smiling like an idiot. “Thank you. Why does it make you angry?”

She huffed, throwing her hands up. “Because it makes me want to lick you all over!”

There was a beat as he processed this, and then:

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He stared at her. “Do you… want to do that right now?”

Her mouth opened and closed like she’d just realised what she’d said. But then, as if she couldn’t help it, her eyes fell on his lips, and she whispered, “Yes.”

He tossed his crossword onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm new on Tumblr at @whimsymanaged! :)


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: PURE SMUT!
> 
> Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments! I've been meaning to reply to them all, but I got caught up with life and working on this chapter. Please know all your lovely words mean SO much to me! I'm so happy you're enjoying this fic.
> 
> If smut is not your thing, please skip this chapter! This fic is turning out longer than I initially expected, so there will be at least one more chapter after this.
> 
> Lots of love to all of you!

**Friday, 9:17 p.m.**

Hermione’s heart was going to explode out of her chest. She’d told Draco that she wanted to lick him, and now he was staring at her, silver eyes darkening behind the lenses of those horribly sexy glasses, like he was waiting for her to pick a spot and start.

She _could_ take it back and dash to Pansy’s room right now... but if she was honest, the thought of licking him was far too tempting. She cleared her throat and forced herself to speak before she lost her nerve. “May I sit in your lap?”

He nodded.

She slid one leg over both of his so she was straddling his thighs. As solid and delicious as his thighs felt, that wasn’t quite what she’d wanted, and she slid her hips forward to meet his.

He grunted. She could feel him half-hard through his trousers. She reached up and brushed her thumb over his cheekbone, and then leaned forward and licked up the side of his neck.

He let out a hard breath, his fingers closing around her hips. She smiled to herself as she kissed the corner of his jaw before tilting her head to slide her tongue along the soft skin behind his earlobe. He smelled delicious, and he tasted even better.

“—the fucking death of me.” He was muttering to himself, and she laughed.

“Take your shirt off.” She said, reaching down impatiently.

He yanked his shirt over his head, and she ran greedy hands over his shoulders and arms. She explored his chest, skimming his nipples and dipping her fingers into the defined lines of his stomach. Her tongue followed the path her hands had taken, and Draco’s fingers squeezed her hips, his breath quickening.

She pried his fingers off her and scooted back.

“Granger…” He started.

She leaned forward and mouthed him over the soft cotton of his pajama bottoms, and he swore before reaching for her almost desperately. She pushed him away. “I’m in charge right now.”

He managed to give her an amused look through his dark eyes and flushed cheeks. “But I want to kiss you.”

“Later.” She said dismissively, returning to her task at hand. She pulled down the waistband of his pajamas. There was a dark spot on his underwear from his pre-come. “Cotton boxer-briefs instead of silk boxers. I was wrong.”

He swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I didn’t have time to iron.”

She smiled, her fingers on the elastic of his underwear. “May I?”

“ _Yes_.” He breathed, and she tugged the elastic back, letting his cock bob out.

Her throat went dry. He had a beautiful cock. It was long and thick, and large enough that Hermione knew it would take some effort to get it inside of her. She clenched around air, imagining the stretch, and whimpered without meaning to.

She reached into his underwear to grip the base of his cock with one hand, and he groaned, his head falling back against the headboard. She bent down, her mouth open to take the tip of him in—

There was a knock at the door.

Her head shot up, her fingers quickly drawing Draco’s trousers back over his cock. She hadn’t heard the others come back.

“Hermione?” came Neville’s voice.

“ _Fuck_ you, Longbottom.” Draco muttered, smacking a hand onto his face.

Hermione drew in a shaky breath, casting panicked eyes at Draco. She lowered her voice. “Do I look like I was about to suck you off?”

He dropped his hand to look her over. He reached out and smoothed her hair down. “Well, you’re quite pink, and you look very randy.”

“Shit.” Hermione looked over at the door again. Well, at least Neville hadn’t just barged in. She adjusted her shirt uselessly before going to the door. Without opening it, she said, “Yes, Neville?”

“Neville, what the fuck are you doing?” She heard Blaise’s voice from the hallway. “Come here so I can show you something.”

“What is it?” She heard Neville ask Blaise.

“It’s a book called Ultimate Cockblock.” Blaise said. “I think you might like it.”

Hermione sighed and pulled the door open. Neville turned to her, a smile on his face. “Hey, Hermione.”

He paused as he took her in. “You look flushed.”

“I fucking hate you, Longbottom!” Blaise yelled from down the hall.

Neville’s brow furrowed as he glanced in Blaise’s direction, but then he turned back to Hermione. “Are you okay? I wanted to talk to you about something, but it can wait if you’re not in the mood. How’s Malfoy doing?”

“He’s…” Hermione resisted the urge to look over at where she was sure Draco was glowering in their direction. “He’s not feeling too well. Alcohol really does a number on him, apparently.”

“Ah, pity.” Neville said. “Do you want to walk down the beach for a bit? I understand if you want to stay to make sure he’s okay.”

Hermione bit her bottom lip. On the one hand, she would really prefer to be touching Draco right now. On the other, she definitely hadn’t thought through the repercussions of what they’d been about to do. Neville was, without knowing it, giving her an out. She could pretend she hadn’t been about to put Draco’s cock into her mouth and go on a walk with her friend instead.

But what did she _want_ to do?

“Sorry, Neville.” Hermione said finally. “I think I’ll stay and watch Draco. We can take a walk tomorrow, though.”

“Sure.” Neville smiled. “Have a good night, Hermione. Tell Malfoy I hope he feels better.”

“Thanks, Nev.” She smiled back before shutting the door.

Draco had moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and he was watching her with narrowed eyes. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just think about going with him.”

Hermione smirked, locking the door and walking back to Draco. She dropped to her knees in front of him. “I had to think over my options. Clearly, this one won.”

She tugged his trousers and underwear down and slid her lips onto his cock.

“Fuck.” Draco fisted his fingers in her hair, his cock twitching on her tongue. “I might be biased, but I think you made a good choice.”

She took him in as deep as she could before pulling up with a hard suck, her tongue darting out to lick his tip. Draco’s breath was coming shallowly now, and when she sucked on the underside of his head, his hips jumped, a stream of expletives escaping his lips.

“Come up here.” He gasped, tossing his glasses onto the nightstand. “Please.”

He had her shirt over her head and on the floor as soon as she stood, and he pulled her into his lap. He bent his head to kiss the curve of her breasts. “You are so fucking sexy.”

She blushed, arching into his touch. “Hardly.”

He stopped, straightening up to look in her eyes. Then he lifted her onto the bed and rolled on top of her, his hips pressing into hers. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, so believe me, I would know.”

He tugged down the cups of her bra, exposing her breasts. He sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Granger, you’ve got fantastic tits.”

He pulled her nipple into his mouth, using his teeth and tongue to tug it into a hard peak before moving to the other one. Hermione was gasping beneath him as she watched him suckle her nipples.

He started to drift downwards, but she shook her head, pulling him back up. “I want you inside me.”

He kissed her then, his lips warm and urgent against hers. Snogging Draco Malfoy was even better than she could have imagined. He knew exactly what to do to have her moaning into his mouth. She kissed him back with equal fervor, feeling dizzy with want. His fingers found her knickers and slipped under the damp material.

“You’re drenched.” He muttered, one finger sliding up to find her clit.

She couldn’t concentrate on kissing when he was touching her like this. He made tight circles around her clit, watching her face, then pressed his thumb down. Her mouth opened, her hands clutching at him.

“Inside me.” She pleaded, lifting her legs to wrap around his hips.

He pulled her knickers aside and guided himself to her. When he pushed in, they both moaned, his eyes rolling back. She dug her heels into his arse. “More. More.”

“You’re—so—fucking—tight.” He grunted, shoving himself a little deeper with each thrust. He was big, and she was stretching around him. Her nails scrabbled at his back, her cunt clenching.

“Don’t do that.” He gasped. “I’m having a hard enough time not blowing my load as it is.”

“Deeper.” She insisted.

He huffed a laugh. “Merlin, you’re bossy.”

But he did as she said, hooking one arm under her thigh and burying himself to the hilt. She bit down on his neck to keep from crying out as he started thrusting, hips snapping against hers.

“So good.” She managed to get out. Sweat was sliding between her breasts, and the air was thick with the smell of sex and the sound of skin slapping skin.

She was close. He pulled her leg up to her chest, getting impossibly deeper, and she couldn’t stop moaning as he slammed into her. The pleasure built until it snapped, the walls of her cunt fluttering around him as she screamed.

His thrusts grew erratic, and he buried his face in her neck with a shuddering gasp. His cock pulsed, and his come filled her in warm spurts.

When they’d both ridden out their orgasms, he pulled out and collapsed beside her, dragging her against his chest as they caught their breath. He smoothed a hand up her belly and cupped her breast. In her post-orgasm haze, she thought of something. “We didn’t put up a Silencing charm.”

“I did.” Draco murmured as he kissed the back of her neck lazily. “While you were talking to Longbottom.”

“You genius.” She sighed, relieved. She’d been too far gone to consider a Silencing charm, and they hadn’t exactly been quiet. If any of her friends had heard them, she would have been mortified.

As Draco continued pressing soft kisses to her skin, Hermione started to smile. She would never have taken him for a cuddler. It was adorable. She turned in his arms so she could look at him.

He was smiling too. “Are you glad you didn’t go on that beach walk?”

She pretended to give that some thought. “Well, there is one thing that would make this even better.”

He stroked his fingers through her hair. “What is it?”

She peered over his shoulder to what she knew lay on the floor behind him. “Can we do that crossword now?”


End file.
